


There's No Sunshine (This Impossible Year)

by lokit5083



Series: Sit Back, Relax, Relapse [2]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Depression, M/M, Non-Sexual Showering, Support, all that good stuff, lots of kisses, sorry to kill the trope, therse gonna be another one and i apologize in advance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-05
Updated: 2017-03-21
Packaged: 2018-09-06 15:00:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8757199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lokit5083/pseuds/lokit5083
Summary: The second happened a couple weeks short of two months later.  All things considered, it went better than the first, but that made for little comfort.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wandasmaximoffs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wandasmaximoffs/gifts).



     The second happened a couple weeks short of two months later.  All things considered, it went better than the first, but that made for little comfort.

     Enjolras had gotten a promotion at the law firm he worked at. His time as an intern had allowed him easier access to an opening once it came about, letting him make his way right into the larger, private office.

     

      (Grantaire had wanted to celebrate by _christening_ it. It took a little convincing, and great willpower from Enjolras, to make him see how wildly unprofessional the idea was, and that that did, in fact, _not_ make it hotter.)

He didn't know if the promotion was part of it. He didn't know if the busier hours and the struggle to balance life and work helped Grantaire pick up the bottle again, or if the two were unrelated. He’d been trying to keep track of time, but sometimes he got too caught up in his work, leaving dates missed and nights lost. If not for Marius coming to shake him from his focus, there would have been even more than there already was.

 

     (He must remember to give Marius more credit in the future.)

He knew it bothered Grantaire, as much as he tried to hide it. There was always something in the tone of his voice or the tightness of his smile. Enjolras never _wanted_ to get so buried in his work that he missed something he’d promised to Grantaire, but he had a way of always finding one more thing to do. He hated the way Grantaire always brushed it off, letting thoughts go unspoken and problems unsolved. Maybe it was just the way Enjolras had of placing guilt on himself, but he couldn't shake the feeling his absence had played a part in Grantaire relapsing again.

     But all he knew for sure was that he’d gotten a call.

     Cosette. She never called him, especially not while he was at work. The two had a way of never quite seeing eye to eye, especially since the way Enjolras had acted the last time Grantaire drank. No, she wouldn’t call him unless something was wrong.

     “Cosette? What happened?” he answered, trying to keep the edge of growing anxiety from his voice.

     “Nice to hear from you, too, Enjolras,” she replied, giving nothing away with her tone, much to Enjolras’ dismay.

     “ _Cosette_ ,” he prompted, the word coming out a little too close to a whine for his liking.

     “I'm not gonna tell you anything until you calm down, Enjolras,” she sighed, which didn't help the anxiety already clawing its way through his veins.

     But he would have to calm down, so he closed his eyes, forcing himself to take a deep breath. It didn’t do much to help, but it managed to soften the edge in his voice, letting him sound more composed than he was.

    

     (It was times like this he was grateful for the private office.)

 

     “What happened?”

     She started with a huff. “I didn't even want to tell you, and I _swear_ , if you fuck up again, I will kick your ass,” her tone grew more threatening as she spoke, but then she finished with a sigh. “Grantaire relapsed again.”

     Enjolras’ heart dropped. He thought Grantaire had been doing better. He’d thought that the last time, too, though, so he supposed that didn’t mean much of anything. He’d practically _begged_ Grantaire to tell him if he got that bad again, but he _didn’t. Of course_ he didn’t. Enjolras should have known he wouldn’t. He couldn’t say he was surprised, though. Grantaire never liked to make it known when he was feeling bad. Enjolras only wished he would have made an exception this time.

     He took another deep breath.

     “ _Shit_ ,” he whispered, and then, in a panicked, yet normal volume, “I’m on my way.”

     “Don't—“ Cosette began in the same threatening tone, but Enjolras hung up before he could finish. Whatever threat Cosette wanted to jab at him didn't matter.

     He put his phone away and looked at the clock. It wasn't quite time for him to go home, but it was late enough that he wouldn't be met with too much resistance. It wouldn't matter, anyway. He’d fight an army if it meant getting home to Grantaire.

 

     He got home as quickly as he could, navigating public transportation and city blocks, the latter more than the former. He found he had little patience to wait for a ride, instead choosing to make his own way, even if public transportation would get him there faster in the end.

     He swung open the door to the apartment complex, electing to climb the stairs to the right floor, again not being able to stand still long enough to wait for the elevator, regardless of the knowledge that it would take longer. Once on the right floor, he rushed down the hall to their apartment, focusing only on the door as he approached it. He wouldn't have noticed anyone in his way until he ran into them, which made him grateful Cosette didn’t decide to wait in the hallway to yell at him.

     Reaching the door, he unlocked it, stepping in and turning immediately towards the couch where Grantaire sat, but he was cut off by Cosette stepping in front of him. Her arms were crossed in front of her chest, and she glared up at Enjolras with enough strength to reduce a man to nothing. He remained unfazed, though. He had more important things to do than to succumb to Cosette’s glare.

     “Can we do this later?” he asked, letting out a short, tense sigh.

     “No, we can't. Listen, Enjolras,--“

     “I know, but _later_ ,” he cut her off, earning an even harsher glare, but he didn't care. He stepped around her, going quickly to sit on the couch, wrapping his arms tightly around Grantaire.

     “Hey!” Cosette called after him angrily, but then, after a moment, she repeated herself in a softer tone. “Hey,” she said, stepping closer to them, “do you want me to stay, or should I go?”

     “Stay,” Enjolras said, turning his head to face her, “for him.”

     Cosette nodded, sighing softly as she moved to sit on the other side of the couch.

     Grantaire was sitting, motionless, in the center of the sofa, tired eyes staring at the ceiling. He looked awful, and Enjolras was sure he felt the same.  He held him close, but Grantaire didn't respond. After a moment, too impatient to wait and wanting to try something else, Enjolras pulled away, putting a hand on each side of Grantaire’s face and kissing him gently, but that didn't get a reaction, either.

     “’Taire?” he asked softly, moving a hand to gently run though the other’s hair.

     “You’re early,” Grantaire said after a minute more of silence, voice quiet and tired.

     “Yeah,” Enjolras replied softly, eyebrows furrowed in concern.

     “Why?” asked Grantaire, turning his head to look at the other.

     “Why?” repeated Enjolras, confused.

     “Why’d you come home?” explained the other, as though his meaning were obvious.

     “To be with you, Grantaire,” Enjolras said, concern turning to confusion.

     “To yell?”

      Enjolras let out a soft sigh, dropping his gaze and his hands, retracting them to his lap. Of course he’d expect that, just as Cosette did. It stung, but he knew they had more than enough reason to expect him to lash out. Hell, _he’d_ be surprised if he managed to get through this without raising his voice. He did last time, why wouldn't he this time? He knew this was his fault, and he knew it wouldn't be easy to redeem himself. Even if he managed to control his temper this time, there would always be doubt in the future, whatever the problem may be.

     “No,” he exhaled, “no, not this time.”

     “Why not?” asked Grantaire, confusion clear on his face. It made Enjolras’ heart ache.

      “I don't want to hurt you anymore,” he answered softly, slowly raising a hand to run it through the other’s hair again, “I won't hurt you anymore.”

     Grantaire looked at him for a moment, silent, eyes filled with a pain and sadness that Enjolras would take away in an instant if he could. Then he moved, slowly, to wrap his arms around Enjolras, pressing his face into the other’s neck. Enjolras let out a soft breath, holding Grantaire close and pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder.

     “It’s okay,” he said, rubbing Grantaire’s back gently, “it's okay.”

     His heart filled with sadness as Grantaire began to cry, holding him tighter. Enjolras ran a hand through the other’s hair, hoping to calm him. He didn't know how much it would do, but it was worth a try.

     Anything was worth a try.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He could find something else to do, maybe even something important, but if there was one thing that had been impressed on him in his time with Grantaire, both by himself and friends alike, it was that Grantaire was more important.

     Cosette left a little while later. Marius would come home soon, and Enjolras assured her he would be able to take care of Grantaire on his own.

 

     (Although it took convincing, and she didn’t leave without reminding Enjolras she would tear him limb from limb if he got upset again. He didn’t doubt her.)

 

     Enjolras and Grantaire, however, hadn’t moved from their spot on the couch, aside from readjusting themselves when something became too uncomfortable. Neither of them had anywhere else to be, and nowhere they would _rather_ be.

 

     (Enjolras would have to return to work in the morning, but it had been decided that Cosette would stay with him during the day.)

 

     Another short while later, Enjolras pulled away just enough to meet Grantaire’s eyes. He ran a hand through the other’s hair, his free hand resting gently on his cheek. He leaned in to press a soft kiss to his forehead, his other cheek, and then to his lips. Grantaire closed his eyes, letting out a ragged sigh.

     “Do you want something to eat?” Enjolras asked softly, rubbing his thumb against the other’s cheek.

     Grantaire shook his head, leaning into Enjolras’ touch, who nodded. He worried, but he didn’t push it.

     “Do you want a cup of tea?”

     Again, Grantaire shook his head.

     Enjolras exhaled softly, nodding again and kissing Grantaire’s forehead gently. “I'm going to eat something, okay?” He didn’t want to get up, but the twinges in his stomach were reminding him his tendency to skip meals in favor for work.

     Grantaire sighed, hesitating for a moment before nodding.

     Enjolras kissed him softly before standing, holding a hand out for him to take. Grantaire opened his eyes to look up at him, hesitating another moment before taking his hand with a sigh. He didn't want to get up, and Enjolras knew that, but he wanted Grantaire to come with him. If he could get him up for just a minute, he would be happy. That, and he wanted to keep an eye on him. Surely, no one could blame him for that.

     Grantaire stood, and Enjolras kissed him quickly before leading him into the kitchen, doing his best not to linger on just how bad he looked. He said nothing, only giving Grantaire’s hand a gentle squeeze in hopes his comfort would get across.

 

     Reaching the kitchen, Enjolras put a kettle of water onto the stove for tea before turning to the refrigerator to gather something to eat. He wasn't the best cook, but he could manage a sandwich. When he settled at the counter, he felt Grantaire’s hand slip from his. Concern spiked, but before he could turn to check on him, he was wrapping his arms around Enjolras’ waist and pressing his face to his shoulder. Enjolras placed a hand on his arm for a moment before returning to his sandwich.

     When that was done, he set it aside as he waited for the kettle to whistle. He pulled away from Grantaire, just enough to turn to face him. Once situated, Grantaire wrapped his arms around Enjolras again, who in turn raised his hands to rest gently on the other’s cheeks. He rubbed his thumbs against Grantaire’s skin, meeting his eyes, his own full of concern and love.

     Enjolras wasn't usually one to be overly affectionate, or sensitive to the feelings of others in general, but his time with Grantaire had taught him to be a little more empathetic. He wasn’t so impatient with what Grantaire felt, anymore. Of course, they still had plenty of arguments, featuring no shortage of harsh remarks, but Enjolras had learned how to comfort Grantaire on his bad days. If he was going to love Grantaire, he had to know how to help him. He had known that, and he’d also had a dozen other people telling him the same.

     So, he learned, and he wasn't perfect, but he was trying.

 

     (And with how the last time was, he figured it wouldn't kill him to try to be a little more affectionate than usual.)

 

     “It's okay,” Enjolras said, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead.

     Grantaire only let his eyes drift closed, letting out a tired sigh. At least he could take a little comfort in Enjolras’ touch.

     “It’s okay,” repeated Enjolras, gently kissing Grantaire’s lips. Sometimes he didn't know what else he could do, other than offer a kiss and a reassurance. He only hoped they helped.

     He kissed him again, once, twice, three times. They were soft, with no intention of anything other than letting Grantaire know he was loved. He pressed another kiss to the corner of Grantaire’s lips, another to his forehead, and one to the tip of his nose. Grantaire let out a sigh, soft and ragged. Enjolras hated seeing him so tired, and he hated that he could do so little to help. Of course, he knew it wasn't about what _he_ could and couldn't do, he knew it wasn't about him at all. It was about Grantaire and Grantaire feeling better. It was for _Grantaire_ , so _he_ could be happy.

     A moment later, the kettle began to whistle, and Enjolras sighed. He kissed Grantaire another time before turning again to face the stove and preparing himself a cup of tea.

     He put a hand on Grantaire’s arms where they were still wrapped around his waist, speaking softly, “Do you want to go into bed?”

     Grantaire nodded, head resting against Enjolras’ back.

     “I think you may have to let go for a minute, then,” Enjolras sighed, giving Grantaire’s arm a gentle pat.

     Grantaire sighed again, hesitating a moment before stepping away from Enjolras, who glanced back at him to give a small, sad smile. Grantaire attempted to return it, but he still looked like his heart had been ripped out and ground into the dirt.

     Enjolras let out a soft sigh, gathering his meal before turning and motioning to Grantaire to follow him. They moved to the bedroom, where Enjolras placed his plate and cup on his bedside table and removed his suit jacket, shoes, and tie before getting into bed next to Grantaire, who had already buried himself beneath the covers. Once settled, Enjolras reached out a hand to rest gently atop Grantaire’s head, running it softly over the mess of dark curls there. Grantaire let out a breath, remaining still for a moment before moving in closer, his body pressed against Enjolras’ legs and an arm draped across his lap.

     Enjolras exhaled softly, hand still playing with Grantaire’s hair. Looking down at the other, he felt a rush of love towards the man at his side. He never thought himself possible of so much love, and especially not for Grantaire, but it seemed, as much as he tried, even he could not control everything. He couldn't control the way his feelings had slowly transitioned from hatred to love as he began to see Grantaire for who he truly was beneath the alcohol and cynicism. He saw Grantaire’s kindness and talents, and he’d seen the good he was capable of. Enjolras had never expected to fall in love, nor had he wanted to, but it turned out even he could fall prey to emotion.

     “You okay?” he asked Grantaire, looking at him with a mixture of care and concern.

     Grantaire said nothing, only exhaling shakily and pressing his face into Enjolras’ thigh.

     Enjolras sighed.

     He thought to forgo his meal and instead curl up with Grantaire beneath the covers, but his rumbling stomach made him decide otherwise. So, he ate, his hand remaining in Grantaire’s hair as he did so. He spared another thought to asking again if Grantaire would take anything to eat, but that, too, was brushed off. He would ask again, but he would give Grantaire time to recover, first. It wouldn't do any good to bother him like that.

     Letting out a breath, Enjolras got properly into bed, reaching out towards Grantaire with the intent to hold him, but he pulled back when Grantaire shook his head.

“No, Enjolras,” he sighed, “you’ve done enough. You don’t have to do any more. You _shouldn’t_ have to do any more. Go—go read a book, or do some work, or something. I’m sure you have much more important things you could be doing. Just go, you don’t have to stay here.”

Enjolras was silent for a moment, considering what he said. Sure, he didn’t have to stay there. He could find something else to do, maybe even something important, but if there was one thing that had been impressed on him in his time with Grantaire, both by himself and friends alike, it was that Grantaire was more important. When Grantaire needed him, he should be there for him. He might not have been the most experienced when it came to romance, but even he knew it would be a bad move to leave him alone now.

“Do you really want me to leave?” he asked, raising a hand to brush Grantaire’s hair behind his ear, his voice soft.

Grantaire, in turn, was silent for a moment as well. He looked so sad, so _tired_ and it made Enjolras’ heart ache.

“No,” Grantaire admitted quietly, sighing softly.

“Then I’m not going anywhere,” Enjolras assured, gently reaching out to wrap his arms around Grantaire, who remained motionless for a moment before relaxing into Enjolras’ arms, tucking his head beneath his chin.

“It’s okay,” Enjolras whispered, pressing a soft kiss to the top of his head, “it’s okay.”

And he would do anything he could to help Grantaire until he thought so too.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With each step, the apartment’s silence grew more unsettling. Even when it was just the two of them, there was usually some kind of noise made by Grantaire or his cats, but now there was nothing. Nothing, because Grantaire couldn't even get himself out of bed.

     Enjolras returned to work the next day, after plenty of pushing from Grantaire, along with assurances that he didn't need a babysitter. Enjolras still wanted to stay, of course, but he wouldn’t push anything that would make Grantaire unhappier. Though he knew it was far less important, he already felt like he’d had a hand in causing this to begin with.

 

     (If there was anything greater than Enjolras’ love of work, it was his capacity for guilt.)

 

     At the very least, he was grateful Cosette had agreed to come over for the day. She was willing to leave whether she would come the next day up in the air for now, but she and Enjolras had both agreed that they would feel better with someone keeping an eye on Grantaire for the time being.

 

     The day passed much too slowly for Enjolras’ liking, his thoughts gravitating too much to the man at home for him to be able to enjoy his work as much as he usually did. He didn't like that, really, that there were things that could distract him from what he considered deserved his full attention, but he was working on that. Regardless, though, he couldn't stop himself from thinking about Grantaire, but he didn't want to leave work again, so he settled for checking in with Cosette every little while.

 

     (She said he hadn't gotten out of bed, but she had managed to get him to eat a little. He complained about not needing a babysitter, but she didn't listen. Tomorrow, maybe, but not now.)

 

     Enjolras made sure to leave on time that day, coming home to Cosette on the couch, book in hand, and Grantaire still in bed.

     “How is he?” Enjolras asked as he closed the door behind him.

     “Do you even know how to say hello?” Cosette asked, teasing, as she closed her book. “And don't yell at me for leaving him alone. I knew you would want to talk, so I thought I would give him a minute to himself,” she sighed, “that, and I thought it would be best if it were a little less like we were changing guard shifts.”

     “How is he?” Enjolras repeated, impatience growing.

     “He's okay,” Cosette replied with a glare, “I got him to eat a little today, like I said, and he's not really any better, but he's not worse.” She sighed, taking a brief pause before continuing, “You're going to have to be patient with him, you know. I know you're not really capable of that, but you can't be so rude to him.”

     “I am _perfectly capable_ of behaving,” Enjolras assured, returning the glare.

     “Of course,” Cosette huffed as she stood, voice thick with sarcasm, “you've really proven that.”

     “I get it,” sighed Enjolras, “I really do, but if you could trust me for a minute, I’d like to prove myself to you.”

     “Fine,” she replied, “but only because he wants you here. And because I have a _fiancé_ to get home to.”

 

     (Somehow, in the chaos surrounding all that had happened, Marius had managed to squeeze in asking Cosette to marry him.)

 

     (Marius was not the only one who’d had thoughts of proposal.)

 

     “Maybe Pontmercy is good for something after all,” he commented, stepping out of the doorway in an obvious hint for her to leave.

     “I'm going to try to leave Henri on his own tomorrow,” Cosette said as she stepped past Enjolras with a glare, stopping at the door, “He’s just lying in bed, and he feels bad for keeping me here, anyway. It might be good for him. He won't have company, but he won't feel like a burden, either.”

     Enjolras nodded and let out a sigh, raising a hand in farewell, “I’ll let you know how tonight goes.”

     “Thank you,” replied Cosette, opening the door before pausing briefly, her next words lacking the venom of her previous comments, “Take care of him, Enjolras.”

     “I will,” he said, giving a small smile, which Cosette returned before leaving, closing the door behind her and leaving only silence in her place.

     In that silence, Enjolras sighed heavily, closing his eyes and shoving his hands in his pockets as he took a moment to shed the anger that had begun to brew within him. He couldn't go in to Grantaire with negativity already clouding his head. He had never really been one to be mindful of his emotions, but Grantaire didn't let him ignore them anymore.

     With another, softer exhale, he took his hands from his pockets, running one through his hair before walking down the hall to the room he shared with Grantaire. With each step, the apartment’s silence grew more unsettling. Even when it was just the two of them, there was usually some kind of noise made by Grantaire or his cats, but now there was nothing. Nothing, because Grantaire couldn't even get himself out of bed. The thought saddened Enjolras. Of course, Grantaire’s bad days seemed to outnumber his good, sometimes, but Enjolras didn't think he could ever get used to what they did to him, even without a reason like the one they had now.

     “Hey,” Enjolras greeted softly as he stepped into the bedroom, loosening his tie and slipping off his shoes. He took off his suit jacket as well, not wanting to have his movement limited once in bed.

     Grantaire, lying in bed, curled beneath the blankets, looked at him, a ghost of a smile barely making its way to his lips before disappearing. He looked terrible. He was pale, and the bags under his eyes that had started disappearing had made their way back. He looked like a weight had settled itself on his shoulders, like a force of dark sadness had overcome him. It wasn't the first time Enjolras had seen him like that, but, _God_ , he wished it would be the last.

     Enjolras got into bed, getting close to Grantaire, but not quite touching him, wanting to see if he would move or adjust himself in any way, but he didn't. Grantaire stayed on his side, facing away from Enjolras, which didn't surprise him. He knew Grantaire felt himself undeserving of comfort or help, as much as he may have needed both.

     Enjolras let out a soft sigh, moving to close the gap between them, holding Grantaire closely, yet gently.

     Finally, Grantaire spoke, voice soft, sad, and weak, but just loud enough to hear. “You shouldn't be here.”

     “Where else should I be?” Enjolras asked softly.

     Grantaire huffed with a hint of frustration, which was likely all he could muster at the moment. “I don't know. I'm sure you have better things you could be doing, though. Don't you have any important lawyer things to do?”

     Enjolras exhaled quietly. “No, I don't. For once, I think it is your turn to be put first. It has been for a long time.”

 

     (The contrast between the gentle and loving way he spoke to Grantaire now and the harsh and cruel way he used to was something that often crossed his mind.)

 

     (He didn't tend to let it linger for long.)

 

     “I don't deserve it,” responded Grantaire. “Just go, okay?”

     Enjolras exhaled another soft sigh. “Do you really want me to?” He knew he could lie there and argue with Grantaire over whether he deserved it for far too long. It didn't matter if he deserved help, anyway, because Enjolras would be there to help him. Still, all Grantaire had to do was say so, and Enjolras would leave.

     Grantaire was quiet for a moment, silently weighing the answers to the seemingly simple question he had been asked. “No,” he finally whispered, sounding almost defeated. He didn't want Enjolras to bother himself with helping. He didn't know why Enjolras bothered with him at all. After all this time, he was still nothing more than a worthless drunk.

     Enjolras did not agree.

     Not anymore.

     It had taken him a very long time, but he'd began to see the good in Grantaire. He saw his passions and talents, his devotion to his friends, and how much he suffered. He fell in love. And with love came the desire to care and protect. He knew Grantaire could survive on his own, but Enjolras wanted to help him live.

     “Then I’m not going anywhere, ‘Taire. I don't have anywhere I have or want to be other than right here, so that's where I’m going to stay.”

     Grantaire said nothing, only turning to face Enjolras and press his face to his neck. It was warm, there, and comforting. Enjolras held him tight, whispering soft affections and wishing he could take Grantaire’s sadness from him, even though he knew it didn’t work that way. This was something Grantaire would have to work through on his own, but if he could help, in any way, he would.

He would.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enjolras had never had an aptitude for empathy. That, of course, had to change when he began building a relationship with Grantaire; with his low esteem and tendency for dark melancholy.

The next day went like the one before.

Enjolras had spent the night by Grantaire’s side as much as he could, not speaking much but being a source of constant comfort for the other, or so he hoped. He didn’t know what he could do, aside from offering a soft kiss or a gentle touch, that didn’t involve a constant repeating of reassurances that surely became tiresome after a while.

Though he had always been willing to lend a helping hand to his friends, Enjolras had never had an aptitude for empathy. That, of course, had to change when he began building a relationship with Grantaire; with his low esteem and tendency for dark melancholy. Enjolras couldn’t handle him with cruelty anymore, that much he knew. He had a short temper and lack of patience for things that landed outside of his own moral views, but he knew he would have to change if he wanted their relationship to work. So, he softened his words, accenting them with reassuring touches and comfort. He listened to Grantaire, and he did what he could to help when things got bad. He learned from his mistakes, smoothed the edges that had once been sharp as daggers, and changed.

He fell in love.

And now, while he wasn’t perfect, he liked to think he was better. He had to be, or Cosette wouldn’t have left him alone for the day with only a few texts to check in.

    Thinking of all this, of the man in the other room, Enjolras smiled to himself. It was a small smile, weakened by the circumstances surrounding the thoughts, but a smile nonetheless. A heart once chilled now beat with love for a man he never thought he would even come to like, and that was cause enough for a smile.

    

     Still, today left little reason for joy. It was another day in bed for Grantaire, and Enjolras worried for him even more. The apartment felt emptier without his voice; without his presence. The kitchen, where Enjolras now stood as he scraped together a dinner, was missing the usual sounds of Grantaire moving about as he cooked whatever meal he had planned for the evening. Even though Enjolras did not suffer from depression as Grantaire did, he could feel a sadness in the air.

     He found himself lost in these thoughts, noticing little of the world around him until he saw, out of the corner of his eye, a shape in the doorway. He turned his head, expecting Combeferre or Courfeyrac, but was pleasantly surprised to instead find himself looking at the haggard face of Grantaire.

     For a moment, Enjolras found himself still, taking in what he saw. Grantaire looked terrible. He looked sad and exhausted, but he was standing, and that was more than he was before. Enjolras smiled, quickly closing the space between them and wrapping his arms around the other. For a moment Grantaire did nothing, but he then returned the hug, holding Enjolras weakly.

“’Taire,” Enjolras said softly, pulling away slightly so he could press a kiss to the other’s lips, jaw, and neck, “how are you?”

Grantaire shrugged silently, and even Enjolras could see how much of an effort it was for him to be up.

Enjolras kissed him again, “Do you want to talk about what happened?”

Even though he had a feeling he already knew the answer, he figured it was worth a try. But Grantaire shook his head, affirming his suspicion, and moved in closer to press his face to Enjolras’ neck, who began gently rubbing his back, hushing him softly, “I’m here if you do, okay? And even if you don’t.”

Grantaire nodded, holding Enjolras closer and exhaling a shaky breath. There would be no anger this time, just the love Grantaire deserved.

 

They stayed like that for a short while, holding onto each other in the kitchen doorway as Enjolras ran his hand up and down the length of Grantaire’s back. It was quiet and peaceful, as there wasn’t much use for words. Whatever there was that could be said was instead expressed through touch. They didn’t need anything else.

Eventually, though, Grantaire did pull away, letting out a soft sigh as he did so.  “I’m gonna take a shower,” he said, voice weak from sadness and lack of use.

Enjolras nodded, moving his hands to cup Grantaire’s face and kissing him for a long moment. “May I join you?” he asked when he pulled away, rubbing a thumb against Grantaire’s cheek. “I just want to be with you,” he added as an afterthought to dismiss any assumptions that he meant to do more. With all the worry he had, and the situation as it was, he found himself a bit clingy, not wanting to leave Grantaire alone.

Grantaire nodded, smiling faintly. And with that, Enjolras kissed him again before pulling away and reaching for his hand, which he squeezed softly once it was in his own. He didn't know if it helped, but he hoped so.

He then walked with Grantaire to the bathroom, leaving his half-made dinner forgotten in the kitchen. Once arrived, Enjolras let go of Grantaire’s hand after giving it another soft squeeze. His hand free, he began to undress himself, watching Grantaire as he did so.

Enjolras, having spent the day at work and having only recently come home, was still dressed in the suit he had worn to work, excluding the jacket he had taken off upon entering the apartment. He was clean shaven, with his hair as neat as he could get it, even if that wasn’t saying much. In short, he looked the opposite of Grantaire, wearing only a t-shirt and a pair of boxers, which Enjolras wasn’t sure he’d been out of since the last time he was really out of bed. There were bags under his eyes, despite his lack of activity, and the stubble on his face, though a regularity on any day, today only managed to add to the look of sad dishevelment.

Once undressed, Enjolras gave Grantaire a soft kiss before turning on the water and getting into the shower. He held out a hand for Grantaire, offering a gentle, reassuring smile. When Grantaire took his hand and joined him, Enjolras closed the shower curtain, further separating them from the outside world.

For someone usually so standoffish and severe, Enjolras had grown rather fond of the intimacy that came with a romantic relationship. Not just sex, but _intimacy_. Being close with someone on an emotional level that had previously been left untouched. The sex was good, or at least he _thought_ it was, it wasn't like he had experience to go by, but Enjolras would have been just as happy to go without it. To him, the emotional bond was far more gratifying. To be so close with someone, to care, to _love_. That was what was important to Enjolras. And now, with the door closed and the curtain drawn, they could reach that level of private intimacy that rivaled any sexual sensation.

As the warm water washed over them, Enjolras stood close, taking Grantaire’s hands in his as he leaned his forehead against the other’s, letting his stress out in a soft exhale. They stayed like that for a minute, enjoying the company of the other and the warmth of the water.

Eventually, Enjolras let go, separating himself from Grantaire with a kiss.

They took turns cleaning each other, hands running gently over skin and through hair, with soft kisses pressed intermittently wherever they could be. Even if only for a moment, they had found peace; Enjolras only hoped that the water managed to wash away some of the sadness Grantaire felt as well.

He didn't know what would happen once they got out of the shower, if Grantaire would go back to bed, or if he would stay up with Enjolras for the evening. He hoped the calm of the shower would remain, setting a better mood for the night, but nothing was guaranteed. Happiness was never guaranteed.

Once they were clean and the heat of the water began to fade, Enjolras kissed Grantaire softly before turning the water off. Then, with a soft sigh, he opened the curtain, letting the heat disperse to the rest of the bathroom, which was humid, yet nowhere near as warm as the shower had been. He stepped out of the shower and held out a hand for Grantaire to take, which he did as he, too, left the shower. They dried off, wrapping towels around themselves, and, after a kiss, walked to their bedroom.

Enjolras closed the door behind them once they were in, and, again, kissed Grantaire softly. This lasted for a moment before he pulled away, placing a hand on Grantaire’s cheek.

“I love you,” he said, rubbing his thumb against the soft skin.

“Love you, too,” replied Grantaire, closing his eyes against the touch.

“C’mon,” said Enjolras after a moment, kissing the tip of Grantaire’s nose before pulling away.

The two got dressed, and though it was too late to justify putting on a whole outfit, at least Grantaire now wore a different shirt and pair of boxers. Enjolras, also now in his pajamas, was happy to see it. Even if it wasn’t much, it was more than before. He was proud of Grantaire, and pleased with the amount he had accomplished. He knew this didn’t mean everything was back to normal, or even that they would get there quickly, but he hoped this was a start.

And maybe, when they did get there, Enjolras would ask him to marry him.

But that was a thought for another day.

**Author's Note:**

> Based on stuff with wandasmaximoffs and samamandriel  
> Find me on Tumblr @enjamras


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